


coming home

by burningoceans



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Boys Kissing, M/M, Post-The Raven King, Pre-Epilogue, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 12:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7172630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burningoceans/pseuds/burningoceans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam said he’d be at the Barns when Ronan got back, so here he is. Here he is, waiting in this dream land like an imposter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	coming home

**Author's Note:**

> contains vague spoilers for The Raven King.

Adam said he’d be at the Barns when Ronan got back, so here he is. Here he is, waiting in this dream land like an imposter. 

He wants to go back to St. Agnes and forget the unease filling his bones as he sits on the porch swing, unable to go into the house any further. He thinks of nothing but Ronan, doesn’t know how he could do anything else. He’s surrounded by Ronan here amongst the glowing not-quite fireflies and the lush, dark fruit-bearing trees and the scent of those blue dream flowers. It’s not that Adam minds, the being surrounded by Ronan. He doesn’t _mind_ at all. But the longer he’s here, but more he unease he feels. The more his heart twists into this anxious thing, this guilty mess. 

He doesn’t deserve to be here. He shouldn’t be here. He should go. 

Headlights cut across the yard, and the BMW harshly comes to a stop in the gravel drive. Soon as the engine cuts, Adam’s bathed in near darkness again, the pale light from indoors not reaching far enough. He can’t make out anything for minutes, long drawn out minutes as his heart thumps tightly in his chest. He only hears car doors easing open, slamming shut, wings flapping, a low voice. 

There he is. Ronan. _Ronan_. First lit only by fireflies, features glowing dimly. Then, stepping into the light and up to the porch. He has a bag slung over one arm and the Orphan Girl gathered in the other. She sleeps draped over him, mouth open and breaths loud. 

“Parrish,” he murmurs, expression indecipherable. Adam wonders if he’s surprised to find Adam here. He hopes he isn’t. 

_Hey, hi, you’re back, you’re safe, finally you’re here again, home._ Adam bites his tongue. 

“Hey.” 

Ronan’s eyes are heavy on him, and Adam lets him stare. That one thing hasn’t changed, though it feels everything else has. 

As Adam stares back, he thinks of the last time he saw Ronan; that day, a week ago, he’d had black smeared on his skin, the after-effects of all that had happened, and a contrary mix of relief and grief combined smeared over his features. 

Now, he’s only weary, gently. His mouth curves downward and eyebrows are bunched, his stance defensive. He’s every bit the boy Adam knows and somehow also a boy Adam hasn’t met before but thought he might one day. The question is if he’s now a stranger or quite the opposite: someone more _known_ to him than even before. Adam doesn’t know. 

“Let me put her down,” Ronan says eventually. “Before my arm fucking falls off.” 

Adam doesn’t know who he thinks he’s fooling; Ronan’s face is soft and his arm protective, tight, around the Orphan Girl. Maybe it was the drive back from D.C., maybe it was the events of the past weeks, but Adam severely doubts there is any bit of Ronan that is annoyed with the behooved girl in his arms, any bit of him that wants to do anything but hold her closer. 

By the time Ronan comes back, Adam has stood up, placed himself on the top step to the porch, furthest from the house he could be. Ronan steps out and notices the change, eyes narrowing. 

“How were things in D.C.?” Adam asks mutely. He tries not to think too hard about Ronan’s brothers, their faces once they heard all Ronan had to say. Or about Ronan, his face when he heard all they had to say. 

“Same ‘s you’d expect.” 

“And Matthew?” 

“He’ll be fine.” 

Adam’s interested to hear more about that, but now isn’t the time. He quiets, doesn’t offer anything even when the silence nags at him. 

“How were things here?” Ronan says, voice mocking. It’s less than he doesn’t actually want to know and more that he’s confused, Adam thinks. 

“All right,” he replies softly, which is a stupid answer. His mind can’t think of anything else, suddenly crippled with unease once again. _I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t be here, I should go--_

His thoughts distracting him, Adam doesn’t notice as Ronan crosses the threshold and makes straight toward him. He makes a small noise of protest and moves down a step. 

“The fuck, Parrish?” Ronan says, hands clenching into fists at his sides, eyes narrowed again. He takes another step forward. Adam moves another step down. 

“Just. Wait.” 

“What’s your _problem_?” 

Adam presses his palms flat on his thighs, doesn’t miss the way Ronan notes the movement too. “I...I didn’t--I. Do you still want me here?” 

Ronan levels him with a look that could cut diamond. “Why wouldn’t I want you here?” 

He knows what Adam means, of course he does. How could he not? Only days before, Adam had his hands not pressed to his thighs but grasped tight around Ronan’s neck. It’d been the demon, it hadn’t been Adam’s actions, but it _had_ been Adam, it had been his body. He’d done that. He’d made those fading bruises on Ronan’s skin that are shadows now in the dim light of night. 

He knows what Adams means. Adam sees it all over him. Sees it in his gaze, in his expression, feels it in everything charging the air around them. 

“Ronan,” he says, desperate, throat constricted. He hopes Ronan knows he means _Ronan, tell me it’s okay, tell me you’re okay, tell me we’re okay._

Nightling insects chirp as Ronan scowls and steps forward again. Adam catches himself in a flinch but not fast enough, and his heart seizes up. Except then Ronan lurches forward and fists Adam’s t-shirt in his hand. 

“Don’t do that.” His voice is the reverse of his tight hand in Adam’s shirt, low and tender. 

Adam has to catch his breath. He only belatedly realizes how close they are. Ronan’s eyes are a sea of blue, their waves cresting and rushing toward him. Caught, Adam lets Ronan tug him closer, until the tips of their feet brush. 

“God, Adam. Adam. I’m in this, okay? I _am,_ I always _have been_.” Gingerly, Ronan loosens his fist until his palm spreads out on Adam’s chest, and he presses down, not so gently, presses so he’s felt. And so he feels Adam back. 

Ronan leaves things unsaid; he always does, does it just as others breathe air, it’s all he does. The only way he knows to do things. But Adam knows it’s not the things he says, it’s his actions, what he does. Those are what matter. His hand over Adam’s heart says all he means. 

Adam knows, too, that there’s a question in the way he draws back after a moment, the way he fearlessly stares back at Adam’s eyes. Something he finds there soothes him before Adam even realizes what it is himself. 

“Nothing’s changed for me, either,” he says finally, filling in the gaps Ronan left. “I’m in this too.” 

Because he probably already knew that, Ronan says, “You’re here.” 

Adam nods and lets his fingers catch with Ronan’s. It’s the first time they’ve held hands. At least, the first time they have that it means something. 

Ronan goes quiet for a moment’s consideration, before he leans forward and kisses Adam. It’s more bite than kiss, stinging Adam’s bottom lip, pulling a perhaps imagined sting of metallic in his mouth. Adam makes a muffled sound of surprise while Ronan mutters something against his lips and promptly turns the kiss saccharine, lips pliable. Adam can hardly reconcile the difference but sighs into it, lets his lips be led and his hands cradle Ronan’s cheeks. 

When Ronan pulls away, Adam instinctively follows him, lips still brushing, tide meeting the shore. 

“Come on, I’m fucking tired,” Ronan says, but his breath is uneven and Adam knows better. “You staying here?” 

He tugs Adam inside without waiting for an answer. Adam nods, though Ronan doesn’t see, and follows him in, kiss drunk and hazy with relief and something else. Something more. 

**Author's Note:**

> come visit me on [tumblr](http://burniingoceans.tumblr.com).


End file.
